a barmaid & a manservant
by br0kenarr0w
Summary: a drabble about a certain barmaid and manservant. I suck a summaries. apologies for no image -.- inspired by /7OuhSWM00v. fluff and kisses :)


She was a barmaid.  
He was a manservant.  
She worked at The Rising Sun tavern for Mister Bentley.  
He worked at the palace for King Arthur.  
She had grown up with the travellers in the forrest camps.  
He had grown up in the village Ealdore with his mother.  
And both had affections for the other.  
Clara had caught him smiling shyly at her more than once, and she had smiled back.  
Every time she did, Merlin's face flushed and he turned away, fumbling with his drink.  
"This Merlin boy, he's taken a liking to you, has he not?" Gabrielle asked her warmly once they had both cleared the tables and swept the floor.  
Clara smiled but said nothing.  
"Come now, Clara. We've seen the way you two look at each-other. Seems to me he's too afraid to beg an audience of you."  
"Gabrielle!" Clara gasped.  
Gabrielle giggled, taking a sip of her drink. "It's the truth, though. Why don't you ask him?"  
"Now, that wouldn't be proper." Clara answered shortly. Gabrielle rolled her eyes.  
"Oh, sorry, '_**ma'am**_', but one of you has to ask at some point. Or I shall go mad at how much love you look at each-other with and not act upon."

Having been given the afternoon off, Merlin ventured to the tavern, hoping to catch a glimpse and a smile off Clara again. Perhaps tonight he would pluck up the courage to speak to her.  
It was getting closer to winter, the days were getting shorter and the nights longer, not to mention the blistering cold. The stalls were closing and people were filling their cupboards as much as they could for the long winter ahead.  
Clara drifted around the tavern with a tray of ale, handing it out to the menfolk. The was a fire burning but she kept her shawl on, not trusting thieving hands to ignore it if she left it on the bar.  
Scanning around, her heart fluttered when she spotted a familiar blue-eyed, dark-haired boy sitting with a group of knights that were not in uniform. Grinning, she filled more drinks and walked over the table.  
"Alright, my good sirs, these are on the house for you." She said boldly, handing out the ale. She came last to Merlin, carefully placing the drink in front of him with a smile.  
"Pretty familiar around here, you are. Merlin, isn't it?" Clara asked, trying to start a conversation.  
"Y-yes, it is." He stuttered, seeming amazed she spoke to him.  
"I'm Clara. Nice to finally speak to you, Merlin." She winked and walked away, leaving him dumbstruck.

It carried on like that for weeks. Clara would give Merlin his order and start a light conversation with him. And each time he got bolder, sometimes even going over to the bar to speak to her. They'd beam at each-other from across the room, giddy and warm.  
Clara had well and truly fallen for the boy, and Merlin had most definitely fallen for the girl.  
Leading up to the new year, it started to snow heavily. Clara sighed, staring out the window. Her shift had a while to go and walking home in this wasn't exactly the first thing she wanted to do.  
"Doesn't look like it's going to stop anytime soon." Merlin enquired, leaning against the wall next to her.  
"No, seems not." She sighed. "How am I supposed to get home if not on a horse?"  
"Well, I-I could walk you, if you want?" Merlin couldn't stop the slight shake in his voice.  
Clara caught his eyes and smiled. "If that's what you're prepared to do, I'd be very thankful."  
Merlin smiled back at the beautiful girl in front of him. "That's settled then."  
Merlin waited by the bar patiently for Clara's shift to end, smiling at her every now and again, and Clara couldn't resist smiling back.  
She loved him and he loved her so much it ached.  
"How long have you lived in Camelot?" Merlin asked as they started to walk through the snow.  
"Since I was about ten. The camp I lived in got attacked. You?"  
"Ah, seven years. First day here I got appointed as Arthur's manservant. I was born in Ealdore, my mother raised me."  
"Ealdore?" Clara raised her eyebrows. "Never heard of it."  
"It's a small village, about ten miles away from here. Not many people know it." Merlin paused, then frowned. "When you say camp..."  
"The travelling camps. We got ambushed because people thought we were Druids."  
"Oh wow, I'm sorry." Merlin suddenly felt foolish for asking. However, Clara merely smiled, showing she didn't want to cause a fuss.  
A slight mist was starting to rise around them as they walked in a comfortable silence. Clara looked up at the sky and her face lit up.  
"Oh, look at the sky, Merlin." She breathed airly, eyes gleaming.  
Looking up, Merlin saw whet she meant. The sky was black, but the moon and the stars glimmered and shone so bright.  
It was beautiful.  
Clara began humming to herself quietly, and Merlin smiled fondly as she walked as if on a tightrope through the mist. Her dark brown eyes shined, her skin had a certain glow about it and she was smiling like a small child.  
She was the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on.  
She stopped in front of him, her eyes travelling over his frame. She had resumed her womanly posture, hands on hips.  
"Can you run?" She asked suddenly.  
Merlin raised an eyebrow at her. "What?"  
"Can you run?" Clara repeated.  
"Um, yes?"  
She beamed "Well then," she said, taking her shawl off and balling it up, "better start running." She threw the shawl onto the floor and ran ahead of him, laughing.  
Before he knew what he was doing, Merlin was running too, laughing so that his sides hurt, heart beating wildly, cold air in his face and hair.  
He felt so alive.  
Catching up to the wild thing in front of him at last, he caught his breath. They'd stopped outside a small house; Clara's home.  
Giggling still, she pushed open the door.  
"Would you enter, bold sir?" She teased him.  
"Oh, I would." He grinned breathlessly.  
It was a fairly basic house; a single bed, a woodfire, an armchair, a small kitchen with a table and benches, and a larder.  
Clara lit a candle while Merlin started the fire, warmth washing over both of them.  
Clara sighed in contentment, sitting on her bed and patting the space next to her.  
Heart leaping, Merlin joined her, leaning his head back against the wall.  
"Thank you." Clara whispered quietly.  
He look at her, confused. "For what?"  
"Noticing me. As a person and not just a pretty face."  
"You most certainly do have a pretty face." Merlin grinned at her. Clara laughed a little but shook her head.  
"No, I mean, you actually care. You care about where I came from, you care about being a friend, you care about talking to me. No-one's ever done that before." She explained.  
Merlin frowned. "Of course I care. I've cared since the moment I set eyes on you."  
Clara offered a small smile. "And I to you, too."  
"But really, people don't...ask?"  
"Never. To them I'm just sweet, little Clara who works at The Rising Sun serving drinks. Men only take an interest in me because they like how I look, not who I am." She sighed leaning back against the wall as well.  
"Well, they're fools, then." Merlin said matter-of-factly. "Who you are is the best part, not just the way you look. And I like knowing about people, where they came from, what they do...it's what makes them so...brilliant."  
Clara turned her body to face him and gazed up. "You think I'm 'brilliant'?"  
Merlin blinked down at her, taking her small hands in his, the candle still between them.  
"I think you're the most brilliant person I've ever met, and I don't even know if that made sense. But I think, you're completely wonderful."  
Their faces were so close, their noses touched. Their eyes were trained to each-others lips, waiting for the other to move. Everything was completely still.  
His heart beating painfully fast, Merlin's eyes closed slightly as he leaned in.  
Clara's eyes fluttered when their lips connected.  
It was a kiss. A long, slow, simple kiss that caused tears to trail down Clara's cheek and one to roll down Merlin's.  
And it was wonderful.  
Pulling away, Merlin rested his forehead against Clara's, eyes still closed, cheeks flushed, heart pounding.  
And Clara gazed up at him, wondering how she'd fallen for such a goofball of a boy and yet she didn't have it in her to regret it. Because she'd waited for this so long.  
Finally opening his eyes, Merlin saw Clara staring up at him, and mirrored her smile.  
"Hey." He breathed.  
"Hello." She whispered.  
"Did I ever mention how bloody beautiful you are?" Merlin didn't care how ridiculous he was sounding. He was drunk. Drunk on love and Clara.  
Clara giggled, heart soaring, mind dazed, head spinning. "Did I ever mention how much I adored you?"  
"Another time." He murmured, pressing his lips back to hers.  
It was some time before either of them spoke, between kisses and breathy laughs.  
"I should go." Merlin managed eventually.  
Nodding, Clara stood up, set the candle down and pulled Merlin up with her, bodies touching.  
Merlin leaned down and kissed her again, a hungry, more passionate kiss than those before.  
"You really should go." Clara laughed, yet made not attempt from removing her arms from around his neck, nor did Merlin move his hands from her waist.  
Several kisses later, Clara prised Merlin's hands off her, laughing.  
"Okay, going." Merlin decided, heading to the door. Clara laughed again  
Standing in the doorway, she squeezed his hand. "Come back tomorrow?" She offered.  
He hugged her close. "Try and stop me." With one final kiss, he was on his way.  
Clara closed the door and leaned against it, unable to stop smiling. Because love and Merlin and kisses had warmed her right to the core and it was wonderful.  
Merlin had kissed her and she had kissed Merlin and it was the best feeling in the world because she loved him.  
Her and Merlin. At last.  
Merlin could've skipped back to the palace if he was able to go any faster. All he could do was smile and walk and whistle, because he had kissed Clara Oswald and Clara Oswald had kissed him and it was as if something had exploded inside him because he loved her.  
Him and Clara. At last.  
And not even Mister Bentley's snapping or Gabrielle's gossiping, Guise's scolding or Arthur's yelling could do anything to either of them.  
Because they were in love and it was perfect.

**A/N: Hello! :) you're probably going to see a lot of these random drabbles here. Just thought I'd say that the inspiration for this one shot cam from this video : /7OuhSWM00v hope you liked it! :)**


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